Three Swordsmen on the Road

"This is Chēliè Gorge!"

Half a day later, the three riders arrived before a treacherous gorge after galloping at full speed all the way.

The sun was setting, the sky was dim, and the temperature in the desert had suddenly dropped. The wind carried a biting chill.

Cold wind swept through the mouth of the gorge, letting out a mournful howl like ghosts wailing and wolves howling.

The gorge ahead was exceptionally perilous, as though an immortal had cleaved the towering mountains apart with a single sword stroke. The narrow, deep ravine was flanked by sheer, vertical cliffs, like a slit in the sky.

Gu Changqing raised his whip and pointed toward Chēliè Gorge. "Yuan Mengzhi wants to deliver Little Master Zhen Hui to Evil Ridge and hand him over to Evil Saber Ze Luoju for a reward. He will definitely pass through this route."

"Young Master Gu is right!"

The Ice River Swordsman added, "Yuan Mengzhi's route will definitely pass through Chēliè Gorge, following the road from White Mountain to Fish Sea. This is the fastest and safest route."

"Fastest? Safest?"

Little Meng was stunned. Wasn't the Vast Sea the territory of bandits? What did they have to worry about in terms of safety?

"Hehe!"

Gu Changqing smiled and shook his head. "Master Zhending, you really have no awareness of your status as a disciple of a great and renowned sect! You belong to Shaolin, a righteous sect with Law Body experts such as Arhat Subduing Dragons. Is that someone ordinary people can afford to provoke?"

Gu Changqing was not wrong at all.

Sky-Flipping Howler Yuan Mengzhi might have run rampant through the Vast Sea and thrown his weight around, but before a righteous sect like Shaolin, he was not even worth an ant.

Unable to defy Evil Saber